I Could Still See the Postcards
by Roguester
Summary: EPILOGUE: To be that person on the outside looking in is quite a burden. Especially when the view is a bit blurry from where you’re standing.
1. Airbracketed Happiness

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Author's note: This fic takes place after "I'm With Cupid." Big thanks to Caalan, Dani, and Angie for chatting with me after that horrible, horrible episode!!!

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Chapter 1: Air-bracketed Happiness

(Lily)  
  
I pushed my way through the door and into the station where providence awaits. The tick, tick, ticking of the clock was a welcomed distraction... but the beat, beat, beating of my heart was another story.  
  
The day's events were almost too much to take and I didn't know how I was supposed to feel. My head was spinning with jealousy and air-quoted happiness, but mostly relief because freedom is now only inches away from my grasp.  
  
Freedom because he didn't like me after all.  
Freedom because I didn't have to break his heart.  
  
I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes. One Travis down, one Ray to go. The relief is settling, but my mind is still spinning. The jealousy is still there and the happiness is still air-quoted and I felt stupid all of a sudden because... I don't know why. I didn't have the chance to break his heart, but I think he just broke mine. It wasn't intentional, but it still hurts. Seeing him with Bridget hurts.  
  
I sigh. This is not freedom after all. I wanted him to like me, I really did. And why would I break his heart anyway? Was I going to reject him? Why would I reject him? I like him, I like him, I like him...  
  
I mindlessly slammed the door shut and plopped myself onto the couch. A small gasp broke my train of thought and I quickly looked up. Travis was in the booth.  
  
I felt like turning around and running away, questioning my reason for coming here in the first place. But the tick, tick, ticking of the clock beckoned me to stay and I smiled because Travis was smirking at me. He nodded his head to acknowledge my presence.  
  
"Hey," he called out. "Hey yourself," I replied. He smirked at me again and I willed myself to move forward. Stepping a little bit closer to the booth I asked him what he was doing. As a response, he put his fingers up in an air-bracketing motion and mouthed off "nothing." I rolled my eyes at the gesture. "Air brackets. Very funny. I told Bridget that they will eventually catch on but she didn't believe me..."  
  
I suddenly felt angry at Bridget for telling Travis about the air brackets but I quickly pushed the feeling away. Silently cursing myself, I walked away from the booth and sat myself down on Robbie's chair.  
  
"I guess she was wrong then," Travis said, "because I swear I saw three people do air brackets today." His smile was contagious and soon enough we were both laughing. Except I'm not sure if we were laughing at the same thing because we kept avoiding each other's eyes...  
  
Travis cleared his throat and started tapping his pencil against the console. "Actually I'm trying to do this new thing where I sit in silence for ten minutes. But instead of clearing the thoughts from my head, I absorb everything that happened."  
  
"Oh. Was that what you were doing?" I asked, "Well then, don't mind me. I'm not here, I'm invisible." I waved my arms about and gave him a reassuring smile. Travis sat cross-legged on his chair, but he didn't seem to be meditating. He simply put a finger to his lips and whispered, "Shhhh..."  
  
"I get it," I nodded in understanding, "this is a no talking zone." I fiddled with the microphone cord and searched Travis' face for a response. Shaking his head, he picked up the chalkboard from the floor and wrote, "Exactly."  
  
I could see his face clearly now. I could see it clearly and I could tell that her kiss was still there – lingering on the corners of his mouth, making his lips curve into a smile. He was so happy. He was so happy and all I could think of were his lips and how I got there first. I got there first. Me, me, me, me...  
  
But now Bridget is there too, and her mouth had already covered my tracks. And it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. I could still see her staring lovingly at Travis, I could still see her leaning into the kiss. I could still see the postcards.  
  
Signed, sealed, delivered, Travis. I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours, but I'm not. I'm not. She is.  
  
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair because I knew that Travis could sense that I'm preoccupied. He could sense my spinning mind, my unexpected jealousy, and my air-bracketed happiness. He's always been able to read my thoughts and sometimes I hated him for it. But now... but now I'm thankful. I didn't have to explain anything.  
  
"Do you think I'm stupid? For feeling this way I mean," I reluctantly asked. But instead of waiting for a reply I waved the thought away and said, "Never mind... I'm an idiot." Travis reached for the chalkboard once again and started to write something. I guess his ten minutes of silence wasn't over yet.  
  
My mind drifted for a while and I found myself wondering if Bridget's kiss canceled mine out. I wondered if I was still there... lingering on the corners of his mouth, making his lips curve into a smile. He was so happy... so, so happy and it hurts a little. It's not fair. Why do I have to feel this way? Like I'm relieved, and sad, and jealous, and happy at the same time. Except my happiness is air-bracketed and it sucks.  
  
The tick, tick, ticking of the clock was a welcomed distraction... but the beat, beat, beating of my heart is another story. Everything hurts a little, but I still smile. I feel like I'm slowly being erased, but I think I'll be fine. Don't mind me. I'm not here. I'm invisible.  
  
I looked at the chalkboard and it said, "No... you're not."  
I could still see the postcards, but everything's okay now.  
  
(to be continued...)


	2. Cowboy Hats, Bandannas, and Pink Hair

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.

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Chapter 2: Cowboy Hats, Bandannas, and Pink Hair

(Travis)

I could still see the postcards, but everything's okay now. I just needed ten minutes of silence, that's all.

I watched Lily fiddle with the microphone cord and she looked so distant. She seemed so happy and content, but her smile wasn't fooling me. More than anything, I just wanted run up to her and hold her and tell her, "You're not an idiot. You're not an idiot because I feel the same way..."

More than anything, I just wanted to run up to her and hold her, but she's so far away and I miss her terribly.

My friend... my very best friend with the sweat-soaked skin and the cowboy hat. My very best friend who asked me to stay when I decided to leave Roscoe the day of the warehouse party. My very best friend who's my home, my home, my home...

Golden strands of hair fell over Lily's face and she swiped it behind her ear. Tapping her foot on the cold concrete floor, she quickly got up from Robbie's chair and contemplated the door. "I gotta go," she called out, "I gotta get home soon." And it took me a while to register what she said, but before she reached the exit I had already said, "Don't go."

Lily was my home. She was my home and I forgot. And maybe... maybe that's why she was so far away.

Strands of her hair fell over her face again and she begrudgingly combed it back with her fingers. "Why don't you wear your bandannas anymore?" I asked, carefully setting my pencil down as I got up to leave the booth. "Because you said they made me look like a babushka," she replied, shooting me a challenging glance as her face softened into a faint snicker.

She was beautiful. So, so beautiful. And suddenly we were both laughing again.

I handed Lily the rubber band that was hanging from Ray's mic so she can tie her hair up, but somehow I wished she'd worn her bandanna instead. I mean, sure... bandannas made her look like a babushka, but she's my friend anyway.

And she was beautiful. So, so beautiful. But I can't think of her that way anymore because her name was not Bridget. Bridget, whose kiss is still on my mouth. Bridget, who made me so happy. Bridget who is fire.

And Lily was no fire. Lily was just Lily. She was strong, and beautiful, and flawed, but that's why she's so perfect. She was strong, and beautiful, and flawed... and that's why I love her.

"So – you and Bridget," Lily started, "that's some good stuff, huh?" She grinned at me and wiggled a thumbs-up sign at my face but I could tell that the gesture wasn't completely genuine. There was a smile behind her voice and there was a twinkle in her eye, but there was something else she wasn't teling me...

Like relief, and longing, and pain, and happiness, and forgotten first kisses along the way.

But we were here. We kissed right here. I mean, the memory was blurry now, but I know it's still here. I know it still exists, I know it still does, but Lily thinks I've forgotten somehow.

Lily, whose kiss is still on my mouth. Lily, who made me so happy. Lily who was just Lily.

"Yeah... good stuff," I grinned back at her, "you know, I never got the chance to thank you guys. You and Robbie and Ray... you helped out a lot." I playfully nudged her with my elbow and she giggled ever so, but there was a question in her eyes and I'm dying to answer it. "Me?" she asked, "but I didn't do anything..."

And yet she did. She stood with Robbie in that hallway with a smile on her lips as she watched the whole thing happen.

She stood there in that hallway with a smile on her lips and she let everything fall into place.

I leaned over and placed a chaste kiss above Lily's brow, but it was just a kiss and nothing more. She was so far away and I missed her terribly, but she's here now and I'll never let her disappear again. The postcards were still there and so was Bridget, but Lily was no fire and I know it. She was strong, and beautiful, and flawed, and perfect... and she's my friend anyway.

I cradled her face and my hands were so cold, but the kiss was just a kiss and it has to be. Yet when she finally looked up there was a smile on her face and this time I knew that it was genuine.

After a pause that lasted a lifetime or two, she opened her mouth and said something real. "Tell me about Bridget," she whispered, "tell me everything." And from that point on, Lily was distant no more.

We sat on the couch and talked for hours and the bandanna was invisible on her hair. And even for just a moment, we felt like two-pink haired kids talking like it's the old times again. And she's beautiful, so so beautiful, even though she didn't win that election. And I love her, I love her, I love her, I do... but for now, for now this will do.

For now... this will do.

(to be continued...)


	3. Man of Action

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.

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Chapter 3: Man of Action

(Ray)

For now this will do, but um... this whole thing? Yeah, it's all just temporary. I'm gonna make my move soon. Just watch.

So, tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm gonna make my move. You bet I would. Me, Ray Brennan... man of action. Unless I chicken out or something. Anyways...

On Thursday, then. On Thursday I'm gonna make my move. Or maybe Friday. But I gotta make up my mind quick because there goes my lady love. I could see her sitting at the corner table of the cafeteria and Travis is waving me over so I better get there now.

Wait a minute – Travis is sitting with Lily and he's waving me over. Okay, usually this would bother me. But Bridget's in the picture now so I don't have to worry about anything anymore.

Yes, you heard me right. Bridget is indeed in the picture now – big thanks to me, of course. Because that whole shower o' postcards thing? Yeah, completely my idea. It was all me. Well, Travis helped a little. But I was definitely the unsung hero of this fool-proof plan.

I mean, seriously. How romantic was that? Let me tell you, it was so brilliant I could still see postcards floating in my head. It was so brilliant, I now count postcards instead of sheep before I got to sleep. Unless, of course, I'm counting monkeys... 'cause sometimes monkeys are just cooler.

Travis and Lily are chatting with each other now and I don't know what they're talking about. I totally just saw her lean over to him and whisper something in his ear – and usually I'd be jealous, but...

But. I don't know.

Now I ask myself, "Why aren't you sitting over there, you idiot? Travis invited you, didn't he?" So I go over there and I sit down, but they're still talking about something nonesensical and I'm completely lost.

Whoa... I just said 'nonsensical'. I have no idea what that means. I totally need to stop hanging out with Travis. Because you know what? A wise man once said that he who spends his leisure time with a weirdo shall contract the weirdness. And it's true. It is. But that's besides the point...

My point is that sometimes I do watch them. I mean, really watch them. Travis and Lily, you know? And it's like they share some kind of secret or something. And it's not one of those "we-had-a-mad-passionate-kiss-after-the-show" secret, but more like a "Travis-has-a-girlfriend-and-we-talk-about-her-all-the-time" secret. And the thing is, if Travis wants to talk about Bridget, why isn't he talking to me about her? Me! Ray Brennan, man of action... the guy who hooked them up in the first place!!! Hmm... I'm suspicious now. Really suspicious.

And now she's laughing at something he said, which I bet wasn't even that funny. I panic a little and my gut instincts are doing flip-flops inside my stomach, but no... I'm not worried because Bridget is now in the picture. I'm not worried at all. Not at all...

Quick, break up the flirty-laughing moment! Change the subject! Talk about Bridget! Yes, divert Travis' attention!

"So, how's Bridget, Trav? You missing her yet?"

But to my dismay, it was Lily who answered my question: "Of course he misses her, Ray! Did you even need to ask?"

Huh. And now Lily's answering for him. What's going on here? I made another comment about how Bridget's tattoo looked really hot (Because hello? It totally did!) but then Lily just glared at me, made a threatening comment, and punched me in the arm.

"Ouch, that really hurts, Lil!" I rubbed my sore muscle as I continued to tease her. "But if love is pain, then you must really, really, really love me." I grinned at her and expected her to smack me again, but instead she pinched me on the cheek and said, "Oh Ray... stop trying to be so cute."

Travis laughed and made a move to touch Lily's arm, but at the last minute he changed his course of direction and tapped the table instead. "You're such a glutton for punishment, Ray," he quipped.

And usually I'd be like, "What's a _glutton_?" but this time I've got ammunition.

"Don't try to sound like a smartass, Swami. I know what 'glutton' means. It means 'one who eats to excess.' Okay, wait... why would someone want to 'eat' punishment into 'excess'?"

Travis snickered and shook his head. "You know Ray, you're a lot smarter than you look." And then he smirked at me. "But then again, you do look like an idiot."

All three of us at the table busted our guts laughing, but nobody laughed as hard as Lily did. Turning towards Travis, she made a move to touch his arm, but at the last minute she changed her course of direction and tugged on his shirt sleeve instead.

Huh. There it is again. First, Travis taps the table to avoid touching Lily and now Lily tugs on a sleeve to avoid touching Travis. Why are they so weird about touching each other? Like they have something to be guilty about or something. Except they're not aware of it... or maybe they're just trying too hard NOT to be aware of it.

You know, sometimes I watch them. I mean, really watch them. Travis and Lily, you know? They wink at each other and they nudge at each other the way friends do, but with those two something's always _woff_. Weird and off... kind of like 'best of both worlds' but not really.

And suddenly, I started to feel woff myself. Me hooking up Travis and Bridget so that I can have Lily to myself makes me feel like crap. It's like getting rid of the competition so that the girl can settle for second best. It's ridiculous. The worst plan ever.

But you know what? I don't regret it. I don't regret it one bit. Because in basketball, it doesn't matter whether my team won by 20 points or by a 3-point shot. What counts is that we won. And in love, it doesn't matter whether you got there first or you're just sloppy seconds. The important thing is that you're in love and that you'll take anything that you can get. That's why I'm here... that's why I'm still trying.

And Lily's on her way to class now, but I know that I have to make my move quickly before it's too late. So right after she made a pit stop to her locker – right after Travis helped her tie a bandanna around her head – I grabbed her by the shoulder and stopped her. Screw Friday. It's go time.

"Lily, we have to talk," I told her.

(to be continued...)

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_A/N: Some of you are curious about my style of writing. Well, let me tell you... I was inspired by an author named **parkergray**, mostly of the Harry Potter fandom. She writes the most magnificent ficlets and everyone should check them out! Also, when I'm writing I usually have a particular song in mind. And although this story is not a songfic, I still want to share with you guys the music that I've been listening to. So here they are:_

_Recommended background music: Ch 1 - _Linger_ by The Cranberries, Ch 2 - _Tigerlily_ by Matchbook Romance, Ch 3 - _It's Good To Be In Love _by Frou Frou_


	4. Knowledge is Powerless

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _Let Me In _by Save Ferris

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Chapter 4: Knowledge is Power-less

(Bridget)

_We have to talk._ I can't believe he just said that. I just can't.

And I have to look everywhere else – my wall, my bed, my toes... everywhere else besides my computer screen. Because that email I just received? It's... it's all wrong. This whole thing is just wrong.

I mean, doesn't Ray know that nothing good can ever come after 'we have to talk'?

But I've got to hand it to him, though. He sought his path, found it, and took his chances. His intentions were good, but his luck was severely lacking. Of course, luck is nonexistent insofar as one's ability to make his own decisions. But even though Ray did make his own decision, fate still found a way to... well, screw him over.

So apparently Ray finally told Lily how he felt about her. And supposedly Ray stormed off because Lily had nothing to say to him. Apparently, they made a semi-scene in the hallway, causing all the bystanders to, supposedly, be late for their classes.

And apparently Ray will be fine, but Travis said that it's Lily who he's worried about. Apparently that's the case. Apparently.

And it's interesting how I know all these things. Every two days Travis sends me an email, telling me something new about his circle of friends. And through our correspondence, I gain new knowledge that somehow brings me closer to him. I hold onto this knowledge hoping to someday achieve a sense of contentment: that I'd be grateful to have learned so much, and yet be thankful that I'm learning still.

Like, I know that Travis' first friend at Roscoe was Robbie, and that Robbie has been friends with Ray and Lily ever since he was a kid...

I know that Ray has an odd taste in food and that he has an older brother named Tim.

I know that Robbie lives with his mom and that his dad is deceased.

I know that one of Lily's favorite bands is Pavement and that she ran for class president last year.

I know that Lily once had a goldfish, but Ray flushed it down the toilet.

I know that Lily has a pink bandanna, just like the one I wore the other day.

I know that Lily has a small scar on her elbow from the last time she went rollerblading.

I know that Lily used to like Fast and Dirty, but not anymore.

I know that Lily's a musician and I know that she's driven. I know that her mom's name is Simone and I know that her dad's name is Philip. I know that she's an only daughter and I know that she secretly wanted a brother. I've learned all the things that is to know about her and yet I question if I'm grateful to be learning still.

I read Travis' email for the third time and hit the 'reply' button. I type: _Dear Mr. T, I miss you more and more each day. I can't wait to see you and your friends again._

Delete, delete, delete.

Do I really want to send him this response? Should he really subject himself to this blackhole of empty words and endless psychobabble? My mind is clear and my intentions are direct, but my hope is futile and my attempts are now useless. Who was I to assume that my presence can pull Travis out of his current life and conveniently place him back into our shared past? Who was I to belong in a place that's entirely his?

In all of my life I've known three things to their very basic form: I know Buddhism, I know philosophy, and I know Travis Strong. But Travis Strong knows Lily Randall, and therein lies my problem.

Because I've received plenty of postcards from Travis these past few weeks – all of them displaying beautiful sceneries from all over the world. But it doesn't matter how many more postcards I get from him because they're all going to be post-dated from Roscoe this year. Just Roscoe. Always Roscoe.

Roscoe, where his friends reside. Roscoe, where his new life is. Roscoe, always Roscoe... a place synonymous to bandannas and pink hair and Lily Randall, who is his home away from me.

I set my eyes on the computer screen again and now I know what to do. I type: _Dear Travis, I already know that Lily has a pink bandanna..._

I type: _You told me that three times already..._

I type: _But I know something else that you don't..._

I type: _She used to have a huge crush on you._

And the tears are stinging my eyes now, but it's too late to wipe them away. For the final time, I typed _Love always, Bridget... _and I clicked send, send, send.

(to be continued...)

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_A/N: I know some of you are asking, "Why? Why didn't she kill Bridget off?" Well, my lovelies... I didn't kill her off because I'm not that evil. I may be bitter, but I'm not that evil. Nevertheless, I made up for it by cutting this chapter shorter than the first three. I hope everyone's okay with that. And also, you might notice that I put up my "recommended background music" on the heading. Download the song. Listen to it. Then after you read this fic, you may want to make yourself a soundtrack. Fun times._


	5. A Little Bit of History Repeating

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _Desperately _by Michelle Branch

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Chapter 5: A Little Bit of History Repeating

(Lily)

_Send, send, send. _I click the button three more times until the paint chipped off the 'enter' key.

The minutes died down and hope began to falter, but I can't give up just yet – not when I've already ruined the 'enter' key on my laptop. The unanswered calls will remain unanswered until Ray picks up that phone. So for now... for now I'll keep pushing that 'send' button until I hear 'you got mail.'

"Have you spoken with Ray yet?" Travis wondered. And I had to refrain myself from reaching out to him because my palms were already sweating.

"In complete sentences, you mean? No, not yet," I replied. I sent Ray one more email before deciding to take a break. It's out of my hands now and all that is left for me to do is to try again later. Much later when the mood has cooled down a bit.

Except I don't think that it will ever cool down. I hurt Ray badly and I didn't even need to utter a single word to do it. My inactivity alone had done all the damage. But what else could I have said? He told me that he loved me... but what else could I have said?

The truth is, my feelings for Ray have reached beyond the confines of like and love. My feelings for him are solid and constant and forever. Like blood. Like family. And I want it to remain that way because it's perfect. Us – me and Ray – we're perfect this way.

And I could spend hours and hours talking about him, but I've got a history essay to write and no time to waste. I pointed the tip of my pencil against a fresh sheet of paper and started to brainstorm. Except I couldn't stop thinking about Ray and I will never stop thinking about him until he talks to me again...

Thirty minutes had passed and the paper remains empty in front of me. "Gotta think," I muttered, "gotta think of something." But even after hours of racking my brain and wearing out my textbooks, I still couldn't come up with anything. "Don't think too much," Travis finally said, "the key is to write anything and everything that comes to mind, no matter how stupid you think they sound."

I slouched down on my chair and blew out a frustrated sigh as Travis continued to sit comfortably on my bedroom floor. "I mean, you can always revise later," he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at him and went back to work, scanning my notes once again for any grain of information that I could use. There were plenty of ways to explain the justifications behind World War I. I just didn't know which one to choose.

"You know, Travis... you said you'd help me with my history essay," I pointed out to him. But he just shrugged, and grinned, and looked at me with those gorgeous eyes and smugly said, "I believe I just did."

And I don't get it anyway. World War I, World War II, The Vietnam War... they're all the same war. One side gets pissed at another side and they fight it out until violence makes their decisions for them. And it keeps happening because no one will learn from their mistakes. I wish everybody could just forget their past and move on, but I guess nothing is ever that easy...

"History repeats itself," Travis mumbled, "it can't be helped."

Travis got up from the floor and started pacing around. Shoving his hands through his pockets he took one hesitant step towards me and bit his lower lip. "Lily, I need to ask you something," he said, "I heard from Bridget that you used to have a huge crush on me. Is that true?" Nervous laughter emanated from his mouth, and like all the other times that I heard him laugh I was easily swept away.

"Forget it. It's stupid, really," he quickly brushed off, but before he could continue I had already given him an answer. "Yes, it's true," I replied, but as soon as I said it I desperately wanted to take it back. A warm blush crept over my cheeks and I willed myself to disappear, but I'm glued to my chair and I can't seem to move.

"Look, I know we haven't discussed this topic since we last kissed," Travis said, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence, "but I just wanted to let you know that... that you mean a lot to me, okay? And I wouldn't change anything for the world. If... if I could do it all over again, I would. I'd kiss you again, I mean."

And at this time I could no longer breathe. My heart is caught in my throat and I want to scream like mad, but the only thing I could do was blink and say, "Me too." I turned back towards my desk and grabbed my pencil, but all I could think of were my legs and how I couldn't stop them from shaking.

"But we're okay now. Right, Lily?" Travis spoke softly, "I mean... we're just friends, that's all." His shy smile broke something within me and I tried to concentrate all of my energy towards the blank paper on my desk. I wrote 'World War I' over and over again on the empty sheet, but his smile broke something within me and I had to stop.

History repeats itself, but it doesn't mean that it can't be altered. And out of all the times and all the places in the world, I chose this moment to make a difference. With one last glance towards Travis I said, "Yeah... we're just friends." But this time... this time it was my turn to ask, "Are you sure?"

"I don't know," Travis said. And I had to laugh at the familiarity of the situation. With my mind still set on writing my essay, I checked the clock and grabbed my pencil again. It was 9:00 pm and it was getting late, but no one is leaving anytime soon. Travis cleared his throat and took another step towards me, but he seems so close already and I couldn't stand it any longer...

With one hand on my chair and another hand on the desk, he looked over my shoulder to see what I was writing. His breath was warm against my ear and his hands were cold against my arm, but before I could write another word, two things had already caught me by surprise:

That Travis' left ear is pierced...

And that his lips were suddenly on mine.

His breath was warm against my ear and his lips were suddenly on mine. Yet if history truly repeated itself, Travis would have pulled away by now...

But he didn't. Not even close.

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_A/N: Oh my God. This fic is seriously kicking my ass. I only meant for it to be a one-shot, but look at me now... I'm on chapter 5 and I'm already running out of material! Gah! Writer's block, here I come! Anyways, I just want to take this time to thank everyone who sent in their reviews. You guys rock and I love you forever and ever and ever. Especially you, Caalan!_

_P.S. Please excuse the major grammatical errors. It's waay past 2am and I'm all sorts of grumpy._


	6. So Right, It's Wrong

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _Psychobabble _by Frou Frou

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Chapter 6: So Right, It's Wrong

(Travis)

It's like being in a dreamlike state. Except I'm not even asleep. Not even close.

And there's a sort of adventure that comes within this act of waiting: the drumming of my fingers against the desk; the constant checking of the clock; and the repeated tap, tap, tapping of my foot against the floor. The mind-body connection is severed and my thoughts float off to a faraway land, except my brain likes to remain close to home and it doesn't have to travel that far.

Lily mindlessly twirled a pen around her fingers and she looked so lovely even as she stifled a yawn. She gazed straight ahead, pen in hand, as she blissfully occupied the seat in front of me.

Her bandanna was plaid today.

It was green and black and outlined with red and I'm noticing all these things because everything else seems mundane. The classroom is dank, the teacher is boring, and the only thing holding the students together is the imminent ringing of the bell.

I reached over to tug Lily's shirt in an attempt to get her attention. Accidentally, my hand brushed against the exposed skin above her jeans and I felt her shiver at my touch. She stretched her hand behind her back and gave my fingers a soft squeeze. And even though I couldn't see her face, I knew she was smiling at least.

My mind went a little bit crazy after that.

My fingers drummed against the desk and my foot tapped against the floor. I watched the clock intently as I counted each second that passed by. The students grew anxious by the minute and the wait seemed to last forever, but finally after much anticipation – a silence before the mayhem:

... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1.

The bell rang and everybody got out of their chairs. Grabbing my bag from the floor, I followed Lily out the door. I reached forward to hold her hand, but just barely – because under no circumstances should anyone see. I reached forward to touch her hand, but only her fingertips – because under no circumstances should anyone know.

The secret is much too serious this time.

And we can't look at each other. We just can't. Not when people are around. Because just as easily they could find out about us and under no circumstances should this happen. So we waited for the next bell to ring as we went our separate ways towards the opposite sides of the hall. But we didn't stray far because we're much too involved now, and we can't ever go back to how it was before.

Slowly the students dispersed and began making their way towards their next class. I spotted Lily by the stairs and she was fumbling with her bag, looking for a book. Except I knew she wasn't really looking for a book – just like I wasn't really looking for a pencil in my locker. We were both just waiting, really... stalling for time until the halls are empty again.

I reminded myself of how wrong this was, but my legs carried me towards Lily anyway. And before I knew it we were alone in the hallway, inches away from each other and minutes away from forever.

I placed my hand on her waist as I buried my face on her shoulder. My mouth grazed the curve of her neck as she closed her eyes in a silent response. Her hands rested on my chest and she gently pushed me against the lockers, but everything is just wrong – so wrong – that I couldn't even kiss her right away...

Not in the here, at least. Not now. But somewhere else, definitely.

Lily arrived at the station first – three hours after the RFR broadcast ended. She was sitting in my booth when I came in and as soon as I saw her, all inhibitions have been thrown out the window. I steadily walked towards her as she slowly got up from my chair and at that moment, something clicked into place. Something went right. Something so right, it's wrong.

And my lips were suddenly on hers and her arms were around my neck. In an instant we were transported to a place where all that is left is me, and her, and us just kissing and kissing until we'd both lost our minds. Her hands tugged on my hair and the console dug on my back, but I didn't care because the only thing that mattered now is us... just us – kissing and kissing until we'd completely crossed the line.

And suddenly every emotion that I've been feeling this past few weeks increased threefold. Everything was just frantic and mad and perfectly crazy – like Lily and I have been deprived of something true until now. Except nothing about this is true because nobody knows about it. Everything is secret and wrong and I feel like such a jerk because I'm cheating on my girlfriend again.

But it's okay. Everything will be okay because we'll tell Ray tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. And Bridget too. Can't forget about Bridget.

Yet it's easy to forget when everything is frantic and mad and perfectly crazy like this. And who cares anymore, right? Certainly not me and certainly not Lily. And maybe other people do, but I don't see anyone else here but us. Just me and her. Not caring. Because this is it. This is everything...

Two hours later Lily pulled away from my embrace, her hands still clutching the front of my shirt. She said that it was getting late and that she needed to go home so I regrettably said "okay" and I let her go.

Two hours later I was running back to my house with my heart still pounding in my chest and my thoughts still flowing with exhiliration. I reached my front porch and ran through the door... past the empty shelves... past the big brown boxes... and up the stairs to my room where my father was waiting for me.

My father was waiting for me.

Which is odd because he never goes to my room. Not even for a quick visit. Yet I saw in his eyes a mix of sadness and regret and unspoken apologies and suddenly my heart dropped to my stomach. I knew that look all to well. Not again, Dad... not again.

"I've been reassigned," he says.

"We're moving in a week," he says.

"I'm sorry," he says.

And suddenly, after all the good things that had happened today, I felt like throwing up.

----------

_A/N: Ooooh... 100 intense – NOT! Originally this chapter was going to be one huge makeout session but I realized that I can't write kissing scenes!!! I mean, I may be good at writing thoughts and stuff, but when it comes to love scenes, I totally suck. But anyways, I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. Keep the reviews coming!_

_P.S. Hey Dani, want some pudding?_


	7. Joker's Lament

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _Bonus Mosh pt. II_ by Taking Back Sunday

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Chapter 7: Joker's Lament

(Ray)

I seriously feel like throwing up.

And don't even tell me to take Tylenol because it doesn't work, okay? Besides, the situation that I'm in is more of an emotional ailment than an actual physical illness.

I mean, do you ever just feel like you're being royally screwed? Like the whole point of your existence is to be royally screwed by the people you care about. Because that's exactly how I feel right now. It's like, everybody turned into comedians all of a sudden and they're all using ME as a punch line. Of course, if I was a punch line I'd be hilarious as hell – but that's not the point. I'm just... I don't know... I'm sick and tired of being the joker.

The guy who spreads happiness but never gets happiness in return.

And who am I kidding, really? I mean, the class clown never gets the girl. Never. Except that one time when Pacey Witter actually ended up with Joey Potter. But it's not like I watch _Dawson's Creek_ or anything. Because I don't.

My point is that the damsel in distress never falls in love with the sorry sidekick. No, she falls in love with mysterious, good-looking guys with manly last names like 'Strong.' And call me bitter, but I think that's just totally messed up.

And I don't know, man... I guess I just miss Lily a lot. I mean, I haven't spoken to her since we had that episode in the hallway. You know, when I told her that I loved her. In front of everybody. And maybe, just maybe, I humiliated her... but the least she could have done was come up to me and say, "Hey Ray, you freaking humiliated me." That's it. That's all I needed from her. And she couldn't even do that for me.

You know, sometimes I wish I could just repress some of the things that had happened these past several days. I wish I could just erase them from my memory. Completely. Kinda' like what Travis did with Bridget in those ten months that they were apart...

Then again... what idiot actually does that? It's a load of crap, I tell you. Because nobody –and I mean nobody – can just forget about their best friend that easily. Unless, of course, there's some brain damage involved. Which, in Travis' case, might just be true.

The truth is, I can't forget any of the things that had happened these past several days. Everything's just a little too fresh – a little too clear – to completely be ignored. I can actually still see them happening inside my head. I can actually still remember everything...

I remember forgetting my binder at the station after the RFR broadcast.

I remember going back to pick it up.

I remember realizing that it was already past 8pm.

And I remember Lily's bandanna...

It was green and black and outlined with red and I noticed it immediately because... because that's the only thing that I _wanted_ to notice. Because it's the only thing that I _wish_ I had noticed.

Because it's Travis. And Lily. And they were kissing...

And it hurts. It hurts so much I think I've gone numb. But you know what sucks even more? That even if I hadn't seen them kissing that night... I knew that they eventually would. It just happened a little sooner, that's all. And somehow... somehow I knew that Lily would go for that mysterious, good-looking guy with a manly last name like 'Strong.'

So today after the RFR broadcast, I waited. I waited for Robbie and Lily to leave. And then I cornered Travis right outside the station. I cornered him and I grabbed him by the collar and then I pushed him against the wall. I was just so disappointed... I felt so betrayed. I felt so... sad.

"When were you gonna tell me," I asked, "When, Travis?"

And his face was just kind of... blank. Like, there was no expression there whatsoever. Just worry and fatigue and pain.

"Ray –"he started, but I wasn't about to let him talk without giving him a piece of my mind first. I mean, I freaking hate this guy. I freaking hate him. Not because he'll never be enough for Lily, but because he is. He's enough. He's more than enough. And I can't stand it.

"How can you let this happen again? Haven't you learned anything?" I demanded.

"Ray –"he began again. But I was just so frustrated at him that I couldn't stop yelling...

"And what about Bridget? Did you ever think about what this is gonna do to her? You cheated on her, Travis. You're a cheater. You. Are. A. Cheater."

And I'm trying not to cry. Really, I am. But I mean, this guy was my brother, man. He's my friend. He's my partner in crime – the same guy who came up with his own set of "getting Lily" rules so he could put up with my own immaturity. So I just stood there, pinning him against the wall and asking him why in Donkey Kong's name did he do it.

"Because nothing matters anymore, okay?" Travis replied. And what kind of answer was that, anyway? That's not what I wanted to hear and that's not what he needed to say. I just felt so helpless and angry and betrayed at the same time. So I looked him in the eye, reached back my arm and curled my hand into a fist...

"Do it," he said. And I did.

But me punching him in the face didn't really resolve anything because I still felt like crap. Hell, we both felt like crap. And we couldn't really do anything else but sink down to the ground and sit there in silence. Because regardless of everything that had happened, he's still my brother. He's still my friend. And he's still my partner in crime who came up with his own set of "getting Lily" rules just so he could put up with my own immaturity.

And I don't know... we probably sat there for a good twenty minutes before somebody finally spoke up: "My dad's relocating the family again," Travis said, "I'm leaving for Germany in a couple of days."

And I couldn't believe my ears. I seriously felt like throwing up. (And don't even tell me to take Tylenol because it doesn't work, okay?) I mean, this is Travis. And he's leaving. And no matter how much I hate him right now, I really don't want him to go.

Because he gives me a run for my money. Because he keeps me on my toes. Because if I can't give Lily what she wants, he's the only other guy who could.

So what if I'm the punch line? So what if I'm the class clown? So what if I didn't get the girl? The important thing now is to accept what happened, swallow my pride, and screw it all to hell. Because you know what? I'm Ray Brennan. Man of action. I bring happiness to people without expecting anything in return.

"You're not going anywhere, Swami." I said.

And for a while there the joker's back on stage... hogging the spotlight... and tearing the house down.

----------

_A/N: It has come to my attention that a couple of you haven't seen _I'm With Cupid _yet. Well, all I could say to that is, "Go watch it!!!" I mean, yes it's painful and yes the ending sucked... but my postcard reference would be much more effective if ya'll know what I'm talking about. ((grins))_

_Also, just a heads up for my next chapter: Originally I planned it to be a Bridget POV but I realized that it would be better if I did another Lily POV instead. So Bridget will be MIA for a while. But I will bring her back, I promise. Maybe I'll even give her the final chapter. _


	8. Empty Locker

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _Seven Years_ by Saosin

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Chapter 8: Empty Locker

(Lily)

I imagine myself tearing the house down – bandanna in place, guitar in hand.

I imagine Robbie in the front row – doing some sort of a 'running man' move that's too embarrassing to describe. Then Ray would be right beside him, cheering his heart out while waving a lighter in the air. And Travis would be onstage with me, working his magic on the turntables – sweat on his brow, smirk on his face.

I imagine the audience nodding to my music, thinking "Yeah... I get what she's singing."

I imagine lots of things. But most of all I imagine the four of us together. Just us – Question Mark, Pronto, Smog, and Shady Lane – messing around the station together.

Together. But that rarely happens now. That's why I've been imagining a lot these days.

Typically we would have been at the cafeteria, eating breakfast while _trying to _listen to Cougar Radio's 'Morning Medicine.' Typically Ray would have been cracking jokes and Travis would have been rubbing his chin at whatever Ray just said. And typically Robbie would have been disrupting our antics and saying, 'Hey guys, we really need to discuss today's show..."

But we weren't discussing today's show. We weren't even at the cafeteria.

We were separated this morning.

Somewhere to my far right Robbie is arguing with Kim Carlisle. But I know that right beneath the surface they're really flirting with each other.

Somewhere down the hall Mr. Waller caught Ray racing towards the water fountain. He got detention, of course... but at least he nodded a weak 'hello' towards my way.

Somewhere within the city limits Travis is running an important errand with his parents, causing him to miss school. Except he said that it was more of a 'journey' than an actual 'errand.' And I didn't exactly know what he meant by it...

So apparently the show will be pre-recorded today. Kim hooked Robbie into doing inventory with her after school and Travis won't be back from his 'journey' soon enough. Plus, with Ray in detention I was left with the responsibility of running the show myself. Which wouldn't be that hard because it only requires putting some CD's into a CD player.

So yes, the show will be pre-recorded today.

That's why right after school I made my way towards Travis' locker to get a couple of CD's that I knew he had. I don't know, Robbie had Travis re-label them because they didn't have the dates on the case. Or maybe they didn't have the time. Or the titles. Yeah, stupid titles like "The Pre-Recorded Show Where Pronto Called Smog A Dumb-Butt" or "The Pre-Recorded Show Where Shady Lane Permanently Killed Off Torpedo."

So I turned the combination lock. Twenty-four. Eleven. Thirty-three. I opened the door and searched for the CD's, but I couldn't find them because they weren't there. I couldn't find them because nothing was there... even the Bruce Lee pictures were gone.

The locker was empty.

I stood there like an idiot, staring at the emptiness as if nothing was missing. As if nothing was wrong. Because nothing was wrong. Nothing. Travis just... took all his stuff home, that's all. He took them all home because... I don't know, he needed to label them or something. Yeah, that must be it. That must be it because any other reason would sound more realistic than 'Travis dropped out of school.' Any other reason would sound more realistic than 'Travis is leaving Roscoe.'

Besides, it's just an empty locker. Nothing to worry about. Nothing like dead air at 4pm.

I barely made it to the studio in time so I only had five minutes to set everything up. But before I could even find any of our pre-recorded broadcasts laying around, I spotted Travis sitting in his booth.

"I was hoping you'd come," he said.

"Hey Trav," I greeted – calm and steady as if nothing's wrong, "I thought you were with your parents."

"I was. I just... needed to see you," he explained.

Calm and steady, I moved away from the door and towards the chair where Travis was sitting. Calm and steady, I walked towards him and wrapped my arms around him as if everything was okay. Calm and steady, I drowned in his embrace...

Calm and steady as if nothing was wrong.

"Lily..." Travis started. But I quickly shook my head and shut my eyes as I firmly held onto the front of his shirt. I shook my head and shut my eyes and said _no, no, no, don't say anything_ because I didn't want to hear it.... I didn't want to hear ANY of it. But I knew he eventually had to say something so I breathed in and braced myself... calm and steady so it won't hurt much.

"I'm leaving Roscoe," he finally said.

And I imagine lots of things. But most of all I imagine the two of us. Just us – Travis and Lily – having fun while making another record together. Together. But that will never happen now...

We were separated this afternoon. Dead air at 4pm.

Slowly, I extracted myself from his arms, searching my brain for something profound to say. Something angry... something really really angry so I can charge towads him and pound my fists on his chest over and over again. But I couldn't... I couldn't say anything except "You can't leave yet, you just got here..."

_You just got here... you just got here. _I said it again and again... calm and steady, but it hurts so much. Travis brushed my hair away from my face and said "I know, I know" and he was crying because he couldn't do anything else. "I know, I know," he said, and I was crying too because I was scared... so scared of how I'm gonna feel afterwards.

With tears in his eyes, Travis forced a sad smile and brushed a thumb across my lips. "We're running on dead air," he said softly, and for the first time that day I let out a small laugh. He went into his booth, flipped on some switches, and asked me if I still wanted a countdown. But I just shook my head and said, "No, I'll count _you_ down" as I put on my earphones and started from five... four... three... two... one.

"This is Radio Free Roscoe," Travis said... perhaps for the last time ever.

And I wish I could say that the time stood still, but it didn't. As a matter of fact, it kept going and going at a faster rate than I wanted it to go. And before I knew it the hour was up, and despite my protests I knew that I had to leave. So I reached out my hand and traced it along his jawline... and as the tears rolled down my cheeks I closed my eyes and said, "Goodbye."

But a response wasn't spoken as his hand closed upon my fingers and his lips descended on my mouth – a silent message that he's letting me go...

A silent message that he's not much for goodbyes.

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_A/N: Still downloading my music recommendations? Well, I must say that today's rec (Saosin's _Seven Years_) is my current favorite song. So if you're gonna download it, I suggest that you get the acoustic version. It's excellent, I tell you. It's sad, and painful, and perfect for this chapter._

_P.S. Caalan is teh sex._


	9. Parting Words in Permanent Ink

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _I Love You... Too_ by Tokyo Rose

Chapter 9: Parting Words In Permanent Ink

(Travis)

I'm not much for goodbyes. I never was.

I just hate the finality of it all: that empty feeling you get when you lose everything, and that nagging thought of 'this is it... this is the end.' You realize that you have to start your life all over again but you don't even know where to begin. It's almost apocalyptic in a sense... immense, conclusive, and scary.

Now the only question is, "Will I survive this Armageddon?"

They say that once you say goodbye you can finally move on, but that's not really the case. When you say goodbye a part of you dies. And you just end up feeling trapped and alone... like you have nowhere else to go but here. Wherever 'here' is.

It used to be so easy before all of this happened. Before Roscoe. Everything used to be so simple: I just pack up and leave without saying a word and that's it. No tears, no goodbyes. It's the same painful experience minus the melodramatic lines. Lines like 'I love you,' or 'I'll see you,' or 'I'll call you soon'... even though you know you won't. Or at least you don't intend to because it's just too painful to pick up the phone.

But I'm in a different place now. Somewhere between home and hell, I'm sure, but unfamiliar nonetheless. Somewhere that's supposed to be Germany, as my father so graciously informed me, but I'm too depressed to even care. It doesn't matter anymore anyway. I've moved far too many times in my life that the places I've visited have lost all their significance. This is why I must do this. This is why I must say goodbye – so that everything will start to matter again, regardless of where I'm living.

And I have to make it painful. I have to make it painful enough so that I won't forget anything that had happened in the past. So that I won't forget how much it really hurts. Because I won't go down that road again. Because I won't be a coward this time...

Because I can't say goodbye if I had forgotten who I'm saying goodbye to.

And it has to be permanent. It has to be a clean break. I'm not much for goodbyes and I hate the finality of it all, but it has to be done. I just can't hold on to the false hope that I'm going to see _her_ again when I know that I'm not. I just can't hold on to the false hope that it's going to last forever when I know that it won't. Our relationship was doomed before it even began, no matter how much I wanted it to work. No matter how much I wanted it to happen.

I turned on my laptop and logged on the Internet, but decided against the informality of sending an email. It's efficient, yes, but it lacks a sort of sentimental value. Yet I question if I should even be sentimental at all. Would that be too sappy? Should I be more direct? Should I start with an anecdote then segway into the heartbreaking farewell? How do I even start? Where do I even begin?

To My One and Only Love?

To My Best Buddy?

To (your name here)?

I grabbed my bag from the floor and took out a piece of lined paper. With a heavy sigh and a tinge of sarcasm, I labeled it 'rough draft.'

_To Whom It May Concern – I regret to inform you that all communication lines will heretofore be terminated. It has been a pleasure being your friend. _

_To My Heart, My Soul, My Love_ – _You are my sun... you are my air. You are my one and only sustenance and I'd die without you. But I must now cut the life line that connects us ever so. I must now learn how to survive apart from you. I will treasure our love forever and ever and ever, Amen._

_Greetings, Earthling – I have now usurped all of your natural resources and therefore I no longer have any use for you. If for some reason you should come looking for me again, I'll be at a neighboring planet. And remember... the truth is out there. I just... ate it all up, so there's really nothing left._

_Hey you – Listen, I know that we've grown closer in our very short time together but I just wanted to let you know that... blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..._

They're just words. A maze of empty, unnecessary words leading up to the same dreadful goodbye. I could definitely do a lot better – starting with the truth. With a new resolve, I took a blank postcard from my binder and drew a deep breath. This is it. The love letter that would break her heart. My parting words in permanent ink.

_To My Dearest Friend – You are beautiful. I am a far better person now than I was before simply because you exist. You are true... you are pure. Our journey as individuals shall continue to thrive. But I'm afraid that our journey as a single soul shall end here. A thousand goodbyes shall never be enough. Love, Travis._

I let out a sigh of relief as I waited for the ink to dry. Without any second thoughts, I read the postcard one more time... and addressed it to Bridget.

_P.S. I kissed Lily. I'm in love with her. But you already knew that, didn't you?_

And finally... closure.

(to be continued...)

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_A/N: I believe that Caalan asked for some Skittles, so here it is. Taste the bittersweet rainbow. _

_This chapter was intended to resemble Chapter 4 – if you noticed, both Travis and Bridget are writing to each other and they're both saying goodbye in a way. Also, I wanted Travis to be the one to officially break it off. I wanted him to actually step up to what he's done (i.e. kissing Lily) and be truthful about it. And finally, I didn't want him to be the same Travis in Season 2 who wouldn't break up with Audrey because he was such an idiot. History repeats itself, but that doesn't mean we can't alter it ;) _

_Two more chapters to go, I think._


	10. Postcards From Home

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _Promise_ by Matchbook Romance

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Chapter 10: Postcards From Home

(Lily)

I struggled to find closure and failed miserably. Then again, it's only Saturday.

Travis left yesterday, but I didn't go with him to the airport because I couldn't bear to see him leave. Seeing the packed suitcases was painful enough so I stayed behind and left Ray and Robbie with the necessary farewells. I mean, it all happened so fast. We didn't even get the chance to discuss how his departure might affect RFR. Nobody even bothered to talk about it. There just wasn't enough time.

I sat cross-legged on my bed, trying hard not to cry. I mean, it all happened so fast that I didn't even get the chance to be pissed off at the world. There was no huge drama, no huge fight scenes... just tears. Lots of tears. And I don't think anything else could suck out louder than this. So here I am, sitting cross-legged on my bed, trying to figure out exactly what I was feeling.

And I came down to this conclusion: I'm depressed. Yes, I'm depressed. And... unsatisfied. I mean, is this it? Is this the big finale? It's all so... anti-climactic. There has got to be more to this than just a simple goodbye. There has got to be more to this than just... _this_.

I flipped through some CD's that were laying on my desk and started to panic. Travis didn't even teach us how to operate his equipment! RFR can't go on the air if none of us knows how to operate all those switches! I can't believe that Travis didn't even think about the future of the station. How dare he leave without telling us how to work the console. How dare he.

And you know what? I really hate him right now. I really do. I hate him for leaving Roscoe and I hate him for making me feel like this. Like I'm depressed, and unsatisfied, and helpless at the same time. Because no matter how hard I try to hate him, I just couldn't... I couldn't hate him. And I don't hate him, I just –

"Lily, sweetheart, a package came for you," my mother peeked through the door and tossed a small box at me, "Come down for dinner soon, okay?"

I nodded at her and carefully inspected the package. It was wrapped in the usual brown paper and it had my name and address on the front. I wondered where it came from, but it didn't have the sender's name on it. And who delivers mail at 6pm anyway? I raced down the stairs and called after my mom who was setting the table in the dining room. "Who gave you this package?" I asked, "And when?"

My mom just looked at me as if I was supposed to know who the package came from. "Why, Robbie came by just now to drop it off, honey," she smiled, "He said it was 'express' delivery."

Confused, I walked back to my room and sat down on the floor. I held the package in my hands and gave it a little shake. When I didn't hear any sound, I began to unwrap it. Bit by bit, I peeled the tape off the brown paper, careful not to rip anything. And it's stupid, really. I could just easily tear off the wrapper and save some precious time, but I didn't. Instead, I opened the package slowly... like it was fragile and important and valuable. Like I was expecting something big... something that says, 'Wake up. This is only a dream.'

So bit by bit I peeled the tape off the package, holding my breath as I revealed its contents...

Postcards. Lots and lots of postcards. Fifty, I think. Or maybe even a hundred. Just a thick stack of postcards sitting right in front of me. My hands began to shake as I folded the brown paper wrapper and set it aside. With lips pressed tight, I supressed a delirious sob: Travis' last words to me were, "I'll send you a postcard." And as soon as that realization hit me, I started to tremble all over.

Bit by bit I flipped through the postcards, holding my breath as I read their contents. Bit by bit I flipped through them as the dried up tears begin to sting my eyes again.

_Dear Lily – I know I said that I'll send you a postcard, but I guess I went a little overboard. I hope you don't mind. Love, Travis._

_Dear Lily – Miss Communication says: Smile. That frown doesn't go with those pants. Mmmkay? Love, Travis._

_Dear Lily – Remember the first time we kissed? I said that we both lost our ways. Well, I've found mine. I've found my way – with you as my compass. Love, Travis._

_Dear Lily – Come over to Ray's. He misses you. Love, Travis_

One by one I read through all the postcards – fifty of them, I think. Or maybe even a hundred. I scanned through each message, re-reading them over and over again until I stopped crying altogether. Some of Travis' words were sweet and others were just downright silly, and I couldn't help but smile because I felt like he never really left me.

I took the final postcard and held it firmly in my hand. Curious to see which country it came from, I turned it over. But when I finally saw the picture on the back, I felt like crying all over again.

The postcard was from Roscoe.

And I kept thinking to myself, "Wake up! This is only a dream!" But somehow, someway, I knew that I was wide awake. I grabbed the other postcards and turned them all over, and to my surprise they all came from the same place: Roscoe, Roscoe, Roscoe. Each one of them from Roscoe. Everywhere Roscoe.

I looked down at the postcard that I was clutching in my hands and read its contents once again: Dear Lily. Come over to Ray's. He misses you. Love, Travis.

"Come over to Ray's," it said, and without any second thoughts I gathered all the postcards and bolted out of my room.

I ran and I ran as my heart pounded in my chest. I tried to hold my body up as my knees began to weaken, but my heart pounded anyway and I felt like choking. Within minutes I found myself standing in front of Ray's house and I stopped on my tracks because I didn't know what to do next. Within minutes I was out of breath and I stopped on my tracks because I saw Ray and Robbie waiting for me in the front porch.

"It was all my idea," Ray said with a grin as he carefully stood up to open the door. "Just a small part of my brilliant, but VERY evil, plan."

He motioned for me to come in, but I stopped short of the threshold because I felt lightheaded all of a sudden. With a slight push from Robbie, I finally budged and as I entered the door my heart dropped to my stomach.

I mean, there _he _was. Standing somewhere between home and hell, I'm sure, but a place unfamiliar to him nonetheless. Somewhere that's supposed to be Germany, as his father so graciously informed him, but a place now too insignificant to even matter.

I mean, there _he_ was. Travis – _my_ Travis – in the flesh... standing right in front of me.

And I could see Ray and Robbie sitting by the stairs giggling and nudging each other in amusement. They were grinning like mad and beaming with pride, and I don't know what it was, but their laughter really struck a chord. "Meet the new border," Ray finally announced, and as I punched him in the arm a heavy feeling was lifted off my chest.

The next thing I remember was me running up to Travis, wrapping my arms around him in a fierce embrace. The next thing I remember was my body crashing into his, knocking off the postcards that were tightly clutched in my hands...

"I thought you were gone," I finally said. "I never really left," he quietly replied.

And there were postcards. Lots and lots of postcards. Fifty, I think. Or maybe even a hundred. Scattering down, light as air, all over the place and into our deepest memories.

(stay tuned...)

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_A/N: Tee hee! So Travis didn't leave after all. If you go back to Chapter 9, you'll realize that I never really indicated that Travis was in Germany. As a matter of fact, that whole time he was writing to Bridget he was staying at Ray's house. I mean, it's definitely the place between home and hell, don't you think? At least in Travis' case ;-)_


	11. Epilogue

Title: I Could Still See the Postcards  
Author: Roguester  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own Travis, Lily, Ray, or Bridget. But I think the devil does.  
Recommended background music: _How_ by Lisa Loeb

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Epilogue: Keep Walking

(Bridget)

I came back to Roscoe a month after I left. It's nothing to celebrate about, really. I still drink my green tea in the morning and I still do my tai-chi before lunch. Except this time it's a lot lonelier. That's what's unfortunate about starting over... you have to start over by yourself. At least at first.

I wish I could say that I had something familiar to come back to, but I couldn't. Many things have changed in the weeks that I was gone. Travis is still the same person and so am I, but the prospect of 'us' has differed somehow. It disappeared somehow. And I'm trying my best to reach that point of complete acceptance, but I must admit that the attempt has been difficult as of late.

To be that person on the outside looking in is quite a burden. Especially when the view is a bit blurry from where you're standing.

I saw Travis at school today. I passed by him while I was walking down the hall. He said 'Hi' and I said 'How's it going?' Then I kept on walking, but that's about it. I didn't really expect anything big. Things were bound to be awkward. Anyway, he's living with Ray now... at least temporarily 'til the end of the school year.

Lily and I, on the other hand, have become the best of friends. A consolation prize out of guilt, to say the least. We apologized through our actions and we fake-smiled through our conversations, but we both knew that it wasn't working out. We were trying too hard.

So one day she invited me to Mickey's for a cup of coffee. She kept avoiding my gaze at first, but after a few minutes she finally looked me in the eye and said, "Hey, about Travis? I'm _not _sorry." I admit, I was taken aback by the brutal directness of the statement; but I realized that she's only being honest so I just smiled at her and said, "Neither am I."

Our relationship has improved since then.

Meanwhile, in his quest to find the perfect girl, Ray attempted to ask me out on a date. I couldn't help it, he was such a sweet guy. He kept stuttering and fidgeting while he was asking me for my number so I finally threw caution to the wind and asked him out myself. He said 'yes,' of course, and we've gone out a couple of times already. But we both decided to just stay friends because too many of the usual suspects were involved. We just didn't want to go through the same air-bracketed drama with the same air-bracketed people while trying to start a new air-bracketed relationship. It was a little too much to handle, I guess.

And if you haven't noticed yet... those air brackets? Completely spread like wildfire. I think I owe Travis twenty bucks.

I entered the cafeteria and saw Ray sitting by himself. After purchasing my breakfast, I took my tray to his table and sat right next to him. Across the room, Travis, Lily, and Robbie were talking amongst themselves – stealing a few curious glances our way. After several minutes of silence, Ray finally let out an exasperated breath and turned to me.

"Travis didn't sleep over last night," he whined, "he said my dad was a total Nazi and took off to Robbie's."

And I had to laugh because Ray was pouting a little bit. His bottom lip was almost quivering, I could tell, and it was so adorable. "Awwww... you miss your roommate," I teased, "maybe if you sent him flowers he'll come back."

"You think?" he said with a tinge of sarcasm as he playfully nudged me with his shoulder. "Anyway you shouldn't talk. You miss him too."

And I do... I do miss him. Completely. Terribly. But we're not friends anymore and we can never be friends again because we've already said our goodbyes and that's just the way it is. So everyday at school he would say 'hi' and I would say 'how's it going,' but I'd keep on walking because I have to.

I'd keep on walking because I can.

Because when I see Travis with Lily... when I see him looking at her... and when I see him mouth off the words "I love you" as she tenderly strokes his cheek, I know that he's happy. I know that he's okay. And when he kisses her, I know that he means it. And that the shower of postcards leading up to this moment was all well worth it.

So Travis would say 'hi' and I would say 'how's it going,' but I'd keep on walking because I can. I'd keep on walking because I've moved on...

And even though I'm still on the outside looking in, the fog has cleared up a bit. My view is no longer blurry and I'm now able to see clearly: I could see Travis holding Lily's hand. I could see Lily laughing at Robbie's jokes. I could see Robbie waving at Ray. I could see Ray finally joining his friends for breakfast...

And I could still see the postcards... but everything's okay now.

THE END

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_A/N: And that's the end, people! I hope you enjoyed the story. I apologize that it's so short... I know that some of you were expecting more chapters. But this is exactly how I outlined the fanfic. I wanted the story to stay simple and low in intensity so that I could preserve some level of believability. Also, extending the storyline any further will only blur my initial intent – which is to show that Travis and Lily DO eventually find their way back to each other, with the help of the supporting cast. _

_To those of you who are paying close attention, you may notice that the beginning of this Epilogue does not pick up from the last line of the previous chapter. There's a point to that. I wanted to show that Bridget is still somewhat detached from the core group. But even though she's detached she could still see that Travis and Lily are happy. And I believe that if that happiness can reach even those people who are not directly involved in the situation, then it's that much more powerful. _

_But at the same time, I wanted the story to come full circle. If you notice, the last line of the Epilogue completely resembles the last line of the first chapter ;)_

_So for the last time, here's a list of my recommended background songs: 1) _Linger_ – The Cranberries, 2) _Tigerlily_ – Matchbook Romance, 3) _It's Good To Be In Love_ – Frou Frou, 4) _Let Me In_ – Save Ferris, 5) _Desperately_ – Michelle Branch, 6) _Psychobabble_ – Frou Frou, 7) _Bonus Mosh pt. II_ – Taking Back Sunday, 8) _Seven Years_ – Saosin, 9) _I Love You... Too_ – Tokyo Rose, 10) _Promise_ – Matchbook Romance, 11) _How_ – Lisa Loeb_


End file.
